


Everybody's Favourite

by alisansinister



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Behavioral Analysis Unit (Criminal Minds), F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23669413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisansinister/pseuds/alisansinister
Summary: A new unsub has made the BAU a living hell for all who work there. Many missing persons, inconclusive evidence, and a tallying score of bodies in the force's hands. What would it cost for the unit to have an alive victim? Apparently, all you had to do was ask.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I started this story out on Wattpad, and I've never used Archive of Our Own for anything other than reading, so I'm very excited to use it! 
> 
> This work /will/ have more than one chapter!

"Please don't, I'm not who you want! I'm just a random fucking college student- I don't deserve this--!"

The pleading from a feminine voice was silenced by a loud crack. A yelp fell from her spit-soaked, tear-soiled lips. Whimpers seemed to quieten as a figure grabbed ahold of her jaw and made her face themselves.

With her squished face, she tried to make out begs for remorse.

"Pl..Ple..P-P--"

"Another word and you will be looking at your own tongue, young lady."

The figure, now identified as Matthew Raymond. 37-year-old car emporium owner in Quantico, Virginia, Matthew was, understatededly, a psychopath.

You, (Y/N), were his latest catch on the streets around the Mother of States. Your captor had serious unresolved mental trauma, as expected.

The pleas spilling from your lips ceased at the spying threat of Matthew's spiraling insanity.

You had been in that rotting, rust-singed workshop for what felt like weeks. Your hands grew numb. You couldn't remember the last time you felt warmth in your fingertips. The rust scratched your arms and back raw.

You didn't even complain about the cold on your skin anymore. The nights grew so cold against your skin you feared your fingers had fallen off without your knowledge.

This man was relentless. He never gave you clothing other than your undergarments, you can't remember the last time you saw the sunlight, and meals, if there were any, were filthy.

"I'll be back later. I'll let you count the minutes, too bad only you will know your offical time of death."

A warm wetness met with your cheek as Matthew spat, leaving you tied to that old rusty gas pipe in the room.

Quiet tears streamed down your face as you looked down at your fragile form. There was no hope inside your eyes, no warm feeling in your heart.

You closed your eyes and began to whisper to anyone who might catch your tired voice,

"If there's anyone out there.. God, Buddah, Zeus... somebody, I beg of you to help me."

Sobs began to crack into your once quiet begging to those above,

"I haven't done anything wrong... I shouldn't be punished by him, he's sick!"

You pull harshly on the rope binding you to the pipe with a loud cry and a scream.

The world almost seemed to fade out as your whimpers grew softer, and softer.

\------------------------------------

Snap, snap.

"Reid, you paying attention?"

Lost in his own mind, the boy immediately gained back his view on the blonde woman before him.

"JJ, I--"

"Wheels out in 15, we found where the unsub is harboring his victims. Get your bags."

Before Spencer could even react, JJ was walking away from his desk. Alas, he reluctantly began to strap into his vest and pack away his weapon with relief stinging in his temples.

The BAU had been trying to pin this unsub for what felt like forever. The murders were all the same, down to a T. Younger, female victim, found unclothed, starved, hands and feet bound and a single gunshot wound right between the eyes.

It was found that the unsub was trying to recreate the death of his late daughter, Julie Raymond. She was found starved, but Matthew decided that took too long, and decided to finish them himself.

After unclenching his hands and jaw, Reid shook out his shoulders and moved his jaw around. He had an uneasy stomach about this one. Although, this came with the job, so he knew he had to suck it up.

Building a quick jog to the door, Spencer made it to the vehicles and loaded in with the rest of his team.

"Matthew Raymond had been taking these girls to the abandon workshop behind his own workspace, he could have someone there now so beware of anything that could stand out."

With a nod in confirmation from the team, they felt the hum of the vehicle come to a slowing point as they all readied their weapons.

Reid was the last to exit the vehicle and to enter the building. The rest of the team went left or right, but he was the only one to go forward.

Holding the cool steel in his hands, the doctor looked around for anything that would confirm signs of life in the building.

The unsub seems to not care about the place, but more of what happens in the secludedness of it.

It's preferred to most psychopathic killers that their work be clean, but not this guy.

Are we even sure theres anything me--

"Please! Help me, if you're there!"

Yelling was heard to the left of Spencer, and he made a run for it. There, he found the confirmed latest victim of Matthew Raymond's spree.

Her eyes were red with tears, voice raw with fear and hurt.

Putting his hands, palm facing forward, towards her, he quickly knelt down to her.

"Where is he, Matthew Raymond, where is he?"

"Gone, he'll be back-- you have to help me, I--"

"Shh, I'm gonna get you out of here, yeah? Okay, I'm gonna untie you and get you up and out."

The agent holstered his gun and began to untie the shivering girl. Her hands were almost blue from lack of circulation, she must have been here at least two nights.

"What is your name, can you tell me your name?'

"He's coming, hes gonna kill me--"

"Nonono, its safe with me. What is your name?"

"..(Y/N) (L/N).."

"Okay (Y/N), after we get you out of here? We are gonna take you to get something warm to put on, okay? Yeah?"

"Don't do that... don't do that to me--- Don't give me that much hope."

A soft gasp left (Y/N) as she pulled her hands away from the pole and layed on the floor. Spencer scooped her up gently and watched as Morgan and Hotch ran in.

"That the vic?"

"She needs food, her pupils are severely dilated, it could be possible he gave her some form of drug or something and that could kill her."

"Let's move, Reid!"

The sudden movement of the doctor sweeping you from the ground made you groan. Your body felt like glass that could shatter at any moment.

It was then, when you blacked out.

\--------------------------------------

"Her name is (Y/N)...."

".....shot up with high doses of caffeine...."

"College student, attending at..."

Ringing in your ears at the sound of other people talking was almost unbearable. It sounded high, and loud. You felt your eyes crack open and bright lights surround you.

A figured appeared in front of you, skinny, tall, voice was soft.

He snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, bringing you into consciousness. Warm hands rested on your shoulders to help steady you.

"(Y/N), can you hear me?"

"Who... who are.."

"I am Dr. Reid, I work for the BAU. Can you tell me what you see?"

You blinked a few times before looking at what he had in his hand.

"A pen.. black one.."

"Good, good, now, do you know where you are right now?"

You looked around slowly. It was then you noticed the I.V. pinned to your arm and the sweater over your shoulders. You were on a short lounge, a table in front of you...

It looked like an office room.

"Office... somewhere?"

"You are where I work, (Y/N). Not a lot of people come here."

When your mind froze, it was like a bomb was fizzing down, the rope has been lit by a match and it was ticking down.

You were alone in an unfamiliar room with a man you had never met before, sound familiar?

"Don't-- don't hurt me.. please stay away from me.." You almost whispered.

You began to back up from the frail doctor, falling onto your backside and pressing your back into a wall.

"I won't touch you unless you need help. I have no intention on harming you--"

"Why aren't I in a hospital?!"

"All you needed was an I.V. and some blood to restore what wasn't flowing in your hands and feet."

You refused to answer, looking around frantically.

"(Y/N), (Y/N)."

The panic kept rising, beeping higher and higher like a test-your-strength meter.

Hands met your face, wiping under your eyes. You hadn't even realized the tears that were flowing.

You grabbed Dr. Reid's wrists and looked him in the eyes for the first time. They were mocha brown, homely, and warm. Something you hadn't felt in a while.

This seemed to calm you in some way, your grip never leaving his wrists.

"My first name is Spencer, maybe calling me 'Doctor' isn't your thing." Spencer chirped, trying to lighten the mood.

You blinked, letting go of his wrists to cup the side of his face. Human contact. You had been starved of the good side of it for more than you could bear.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, in fact, he allowed you to trailed your fingers further and tangle in his hair.

"(Y/N), I need to ask you questions. Is that okay?"

A short nod came from you, but your gaze was still fixed on the contact.

"Good, let's begin."


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you know how long you were held where you were, (Y/N)?" 

You shook your head, staring down at your fingers on your lap. As a child you would always play with whatever you had in hand. In this case, the long sleeves of the sweater. 

"Was there anything that Matthew did that seemed... remorseful?"

You looked up at the Doctor in confusion. The kind of "hes a psychopath why are you defending him" confusion. 

"Its not what you think, I'm sorry. You were given high injections of caffeine into your system, making you stay awake regardless of how you actually feel...

"(Y/N), you weren't as starved as the other victims we found. Did he feed you anything?"

Looking back it was almost as if he didn't feed you anything. Table scraps, bits of leftovers, the watered down seconds of a soda in a drive thru cup. 

But, you nodded. He did feed you. You often wondered why. 

"Did he ever call you by the name 'Julie'?"

Now that was something you 100% knew. He often did it by accident, and then hated himself for thinking it. But there was no mistaking it. 

"Yes.."

That was the first peep Spencer had heard from you in a while, it took him slightly aback. Although as a profiler, his face was stoic. 

He began to stand and fix his clothing before crouching back down to meet your eyes. 

"I am going to be leaving for a few minutes--..."

No, no. He can't leave. You'll die if he leaves. 

"I'm going to be right back after maybe an hour.."

You felt yourself shake your head. Spencer's brows were quick to knit together. He shifted his position a little. 

"You don't want me to leave, do you, (Y/N)?"

You shook your head again. You felt almost dependent on him. Like you needed him or you were at risk for murder. 

"If I bring you out, some of my friends have brought clothes for you. If they give them to you, you can come back here to change, okay?"

That made you feel a lot better. Even if you weren't going to be with him long, at least it gave you something to do. 

You felt Spencer slowly help you to your feet, holding on firmly to your form. 

Slowly but surely, you made it to the door and looked out to see multiple people sitting at desks and their eyes now gluing to you. 

"Emily, JJ, and Garcia. In your overnight bags, please help (Y/N) find some clothing."

One by one the girls came over to you with small bags in their hands. One of them was tall, sleek, and had black hair. She seemed to be the most independent of the group of girls. 

Next, was a shorter, full-figured woman. Her blonde hair and bright style seemed to match her personality perfectly. She had a kind smile on her face. 

Lastly, a calmer agent with her hair in a blonde ponytail. She seemed like the perfect girl-next-door situation. But you shouldn't have been one to assume. 

"Hey, sweetheart. If you can just go into this bathroom for me? We can help you get dressed if you need help!" The brighter one spoke. 

"Garcia, I'm sure she would be able to handle that on her own." The sleek one spoke, watching Reid slip away from you. They were quick to watch if you could feasibly get by with walking to the bathroom. 

They encircled you, you being dressed in just a sweater of Reid's and your underwear was not something you wanted these high profile people to witness. 

Surely, you got to the bathroom. The pole that had your I.V. attached to it was a slight struggle, but the girls didn't mind. 

The blonde, now known as JJ, began to unzip her bag. She pulled out a pair if light-wash jeans and a fresh pair of underwear for you, both bra and panties. 

You looked at the items and back at JJ.

She shook her head with a beginning smile taking form, 

"I can buy a new pair. Besides, we should be around the same. If you want, you could try on the others Emily and Penelope have."

You nodded, first taking ahold of the clothes she offered you. Next was Emily, offering a dark navy button up. JJ had covered some of the essentials. 

After taking ahold of the shirt, Garcia gave you a pair of flats for your feet. "I know we may not be the same size-- actually, I know we are, but, here you go."

The ladies stood back and allowed you into a stall. 

You slipped on the shirt easier than you imagined, the I.V. getting in the way slightly. The jeans fit a bit tight, but not uncomfortable, the same with the shoes. 

You slid Spencer's sweater back on over your arms and made your way out of the crammed stall. 

All three women were standing with short smiles on their faces, holding some makeup products in hand. 

"Its not going to be anything fancy, just some colour correcting and hiding, okay?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded, allowing them to do their thing. 

\-----------------------------

"You're saying shes been there for how long?"

"At most? More than a few weeks."

"And she survived from left overs and ice cubes? No fucking way..."

Hotch circled the table with his finger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose. He then placed his hands on the edge of the table in frustration. 

"Why did Raymond keep her alive?"

"It is suspected in most psychotic killers that if they find someone closely resembling their dead loved one, they would show more empathy and emotion for them. This doesn't explain why he killed those other women while possibly holding her hostage..."

"Kid, she's grown codependent on you. You have dug yourself deep in here." Morgan sighed and patted Spencer on the shoulder. 

"No she hasn't- well maybe.."

"You're responsible for that girl, Reid."

The door opened, revealing Emily, JJ, and Garcia. They parted to show (Y/N), all fixed up. Her skin showed no signs of fatigue or harm, her hair was free from tangle or large mets. She only made eye contact with Spencer. 

He slowly stood and made his way over to (Y/N), a gentle smile displayed on his face. 

"Hey, you look a lot better. You feeling okay?"

She nodded her head and smiled shortly. Spencer turned to see Hotch giving him a knowing look. He nodded and allowed everyone to disperse as he lead (Y/N) over to his desk. 

Spencer felt his phone vibrate and quickly pulled it out to check, it was from Emily. 

E. Prentiss: Hotch says to take off the rest of your shift, find somewhere to safely shelter her

\----------------------------------

You shifted into the plastic seat the Doctor had sat you in. He checked his phone quickly before turning back to you. 

"Under orders, I have to take care of you. You have become what is called "codependent". Its not a bad thing, but you are now my responsibility, okay?"

Truthfully, the thought of being dependent on a man you just met frightened you. The situation given, you couldn't do much about it 

"Now, will you come with me to my car? I'm going to take you to a hotel, we are gonna get you set up there and I will be there with you for a while."

You didn't know how you felt. You wanted to tell him to take you home, but you didn't even know if home was an option any more. 

"Yes, okay.."

Taking Spencer's hands, he helped you up and secured an arm to your waist to help you balance yourself. 

The two of you made it slowly outside the precinct and you were on your way to his car. 

"Spencer.."

"Yes, (Y/N)?"

"I wasn't there for just two days, was I...?"

Your voice sounded hoarse in your throat, audibly raw from the nights you spent screaming. Chewing on his lip, the young doctor shook his head. 

"You were there for, at most, two to three months."


	3. Chapter 3

You felt your chest pang with fear. It couldn't have been possible... you couldn't have been gone for that long. 

You began to push yourself away from Spencer and leant on the building, your hands brushing with the cold brick exterior. 

"No.. no that's not right, I was only there for a few weeks-- that's not possible."

Your world came crashing bit by bit when you thought back to that night, when Matthew came and snatched you up by your hair and dragged you across your campus. The in-depth remembrance caused you to relive that panic resonating in your memory. 

Scratching brick drug itself across your back as you slid down the wall, not even recognizing Dr. Reid's attempts to bring you back to reality. 

"(Y/N), listen. You got out of there and you're not going back, you're safe out here."

"He kept me... for two fucking months."

"I know, but you're here now-"

"Two fucking months, and who the fuck decided to look for me?!"

"You were all over our radar, (Y/N). In fact, you were one of the first few who went missing. We assumed you had been left for de--... you had passed on."

"Oh and I was just supposed to accept that?! I was just going to rot there for as long as that sick bastard left me there?!"

In fear of others hearing you on the cold street, Spencer gently placed his finger on your lips. Before he could speak, you pushed it away and began yelling again. 

"I had no one to look for me! My family lives in fucking Washington, you think they would come down here to see their kid-- well I guess the fuck not!"

Getting a bit irritated, Spencer pulled you to his chest and held you, just so you would stop being loud. 

He began to whisper quietly to your angry and shaking form,

"(Y/N) your parents came to live here for a month. We gave them as many updates as we could about where you could be or where you went. They stayed here and waited for what seemed like forever for an answer, and I was the one who had to tell them that we had to safely assume you were dead."

At first, you were fighting against Spencer, trying to tear away and yell and scream and kick. But then, he dropped information about your parents. And that was what made you break once again. 

Quiet sobs pulsed through your chest. You were a train wreck, or so you felt like. You didn't want anyone to tell you anything about this. It was all too much to handle all at once. 

"Let go of me."

Obeying, Spencer let go of you and kept a hand on your shoulder. His eyes searched you with remorse and sorrow, his mouth opening and closing in thought of things to say. 

You held a hand to cut him off. 

"No, don't say anything. I don't want to hear it. I want to go to this hotel, and I want to sleep. I would like to sleep on the bed closest to the window and you can sleep on the other one."

Surprised at how fast you shut him down, shut your emotions down, and how direct you were, the skinny man could do nothing but allow your wishes. 

You began walking forward, asking sternly. 

"Where is your car, Spencer?"

\------------------------------------------

The car ride was silent, as to be expected. The hotel that he suggested was a small, homely place a little while from the BAU. 

You stood behind Spencer as he got you both checked in to the quiet rooms. Left to right, you shifted your weight on either foot, picking at the I.V. still in your arm as Spencer now stood in front of your shared room. He walked in and saw the single bed in the middle of the room. 

"God dammit." He murmured under his breath. 

You walked in and saw the single bed, it almost made you laugh. You knew Spencer had told the lady at the desk the both of you were not comfortable sleeping in the same bed, no matter how tired you were. 

"I can take the floor, if you want."

His sunken eyes looked at you, waiting for your reply. You wouldn't have ever noticed how tired he looked if it wasn't for him being there with you outside the office building. 

"Thank you... I'm sorry but, I don't know how I feel about sleeping in the bed with a man I just met."

"Don't be sorry, you've been though some rough times."

"A bit understated, but I get where you're going with it."

A small smile kicked up on Spencer's lips, making you feel fuzzy. 

Oh no, nonono, n o, (Y/N). Three months, and you shouldn't feel like this. It's just because he's tall. 

Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you found yourself picking at your I.V. again. It irritated you, having something so small being so fucking annoying. You watched Spencer begin to take off his tie and shoes, seeing he was distracted. 

You slowly began to peel the medical tape off of your arm, and slowly took out the needle protruding from your vein. A smile graced your lips as you dropped it to the floor and scratched over the bruised point of your arm. Then, a shadow loomed over you. Spencer. 

"(Y/N), why did you take out the I.V.?' 

His tone sounded more worried as he picked up the needle attached in the tube and began to roll your stand over to the kitchen counter top. 

"I didn't want it in my arm anymore-"

"So you dropped it on the floor? Do you know how unsanitary these places are?"

"Okay "Doctor" I will be just find, I've been through worse, remember?"

"Don't say that. Go over to the bed and lay down, you need some rest-- I'll... I'll deal with the I.V. in the morning."

Dr. Reid felt like he was looking after a child. Given, you had every right to be angry. Kidnapping, found missing, abused, and probably a numerous amount of other stuff. 

You kicked off Garcia's loaned shoes and layed face first into the cool pillow of the hotel. You felt the mint on the pillow bounce up and land beside you. 

As soon as your eyes closed, Reid came over and started turning off the lights. 

"I will be right next to you if you need anything, studies show people in your condition could have night terrors, heightened anxiety, PTSD, and numerous other psychological issues."

"Thanks, Boy Wonder, but right now all I'm worried about is whether or not that window and that door is locked tight."

"Oh, right..."

Spencer turned to check the window, his lanky arms reaching up to feel for the lock. You opened your eyes and watched his shoulders and back move underneath his purple dress shirt. He seemed to be skinnier than he seemed. 

He then jogged to the door, locked it tight, made his makeshift bed on the hard carpeted floor, and tucked himself in. 

You reached over and turned on the lamp next to the bed, not liking the eeriness of the room in the dark. You noticed Spencer being almost dead asleep laying on his side. 

"Sleeping on your left side shows you are more emotional, caring, and sympathetic to strangers." You spoke softly before turning over and closing your eyes once more. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Boy Wonder."


	4. Chapter 4

"You have to get me out of here, he's going to come back!"

"I'm getting you out as fast as possible. Given the time he left you should have plenty for me to untie you."

His words fuzzed as they entered your ears, like the low hum of a cold freezer in a garage late at night. A weight was carried off of your wrists. You felt numb, then a soft tingling beginning in your hands and feet as you began to regain some feeling. 

"Thank you, Spencer."

You were met with no response.

Confused, you looked around to only see the change in the area around you. Mirrors, everywhere. Like in a funhouse, except they weren't wobbling or anything, just a room with the walls made into mirrors. 

"I told you what would happened if you kept talking."

The deepened voice surrounded you, making your body freeze up and clench your eyes tight. Coarse hands pulled your body to face the man your brain knew you feared. Your kept your eyes tightly screwn shut and didn't dare let then peek. 

He's gone, he's gone (Y/N). Let him go. 

"No, no it's not.... it's not you."

"You leave me no choice."

Hands forced your jaw open, using thumb and finger to begin pulling your tongue free from the back of your throat. You yelled, screamed, and fought as much as your body would let you. It was then when your eyes cracked open, spotting a pair of warm coffee-toned ones. 

"Spencer?"

Your body aching from the previous night, and your sweat dribbling on your skin, you shouted aloud ad your body jumped awake to find itself in the same shabby hotel room you were sharing. 

Sharing. You were sharing the room with Spencer. 

The fear jolting itself in your body made you sick with nausea, forcing your weakened legs to half-drag yourself to the trashcan in the nearby kitchen. The rush of sickness kept coming, but nothing ever came out. You dry heaved fot what felt like hours before a cold rag draped across the back of your neck. 

"Your body isn't used to the lack of caffeine, it's making your stomach sick."

Jumping at the familiar voice, you began to try and crawl away while facing him. Spencer looked tired as ever, hair askew and shirt wrinkled from the back to the front. His eyes showed confusion. 

You began to murmur softly,

"You took my tongue--- you carved it out."

"That would be impossible, you are still talking."

"It was in your hand, moving..."

"(Y/N), not as a doctor but as a rational person, you can't talk if you don't have a tongue."

You refused to look at him, putting your hand near your mouth and feeling the softness of your tongue, tasting the salty sweat on your fingers. 

"(Y/N), did you have a nightmare?"

Hesitantly, still feeling nauseated, you nodded. 

"Did I.. take, your tongue in this nightmare?"

Quickly you began nodding again. A groan became of your throat when the aching began to be too much. Spencer slowly gained closeness with his hands forward in defense. Eyebrows raised, he watched you groan more and more. 

"Let's get you to the bed again, and I'll help as best I can, alright (Y/N)?"

"No... hurts.."

"Your body hurts?"

"Head.. feet, legs,.. hands.."

Getting close enough to touch, Spencer pulled the rag from your neck and gently wiped down your face. You hadn't realized it, but you were pouring sweat. 

"Would if be okay if I carried you back to the bed?"

You thought about it. The man who carved your tongue in a dream carrying you, sick, hurt, back to the crummy hotel bed?

"Put me.. on other side. 'S colder."

"Will do."

Snaking his hands under your back and legs, he carefully began to carry you to the colder side of the bed, as you requested. As he set you down, you mumbled softly with your eyes almost closed. 

"What was that, (Y/N)."

"Hot.. no clothes..."

His eyes becoming that of dinner plates, Spencer immediately held your wrists as your fingers were beginning to undo the first few buttons of your shirt. 

"No, no. (Y/N) this-- no, keep the clothes on."

" 'S so hot.. wanna be cold.."

"I'll turn on the air conditioning then, just don't remove any clothing, for God's sake."

Keeping his eyes watching over you, Spencer began to walk over to the A/C unit and pressed a few buttons. 

The air is at 73 degrees, meaning if she is having a fever that 67-66 should satisfy. 

Turning back around, his hand almost seemed to cover his eyes by themselves. His nervous system having a hard time keeping things together, he stuttered aloud. 

"W-What did I j-just say, (Y/N)?!"

You, already being asleep, had unbuttoned the front of your shirt, removed it, and almost began removing your jeans before passing out again. Surprisingly, you had Spencer's sweater tangled in your hands. 

"Take her somewhere safe, Reid! She is attached to you! She trusts you!" 

Spencer angrily mocked his team as he sucked it up and walked over to you. He took the sweater and draped it over your overheating body. In his hand he took the wet rag again and ran it over your face and neck. 

The makeup from earlier was now next to nothing. He saw the purple and yellow bruises surrounding your neck, the one clipping her jaw, the scrapes by your temples. 

You had been through a bit too much for Spencer's liking. But it wasn't his call. 

He had decided to unfold the blankets and tuck you underneath them, to cover your exposed body. He knew that when you woke up you would be freezing from the shift in the air. 

Your whimpered only a little when hemoved your legs and arms, face contorting a small amount in pain. 

"You'll be safer here, with me I don't know how long this will last, but, for your sake, hopefully not long."

\---------------------------------------

The stinging contrast from the cold to the heat of your skin made you shiver as your eyes cracked open for what felt like the first time. Eyes scanned the room to see Spencer with his head laying on the edge of the bed, arms folded beneath himself. 

Drawn to him almost, your stuck your hand through his curling hair. It felt just as it did the last time. Soft, gentle. After a few glides of your hand into his forest of hair, he leaned a little into your touch. It was barely noticable if you weren't looking right at it, but a tiny smile showed up as well. 

In the moment, you didn't notice your top had been removed, and Spencer's sweater was wrapped around you instead. Your hand immediately retracted and covered yourself with a freaked out look to yourself and Dr. Reid. 

"You were sick last night, delirious with fever. You didn't want to be "hot" so you removed your shirt. I turned down the air conditioning but you still removed it."

The tired, soft-spoken voice sounded from Spencer as he sat up and wiped at his eyes with the palm of his hands. He looked like he had a really tough night with you and him in the same room. 

"I'm sorry..."

"No, no it's fine. I've had worse nights."

"That doesn't mean I had to be one of them."

"(Y/N), stop."

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, then realizing how tired you felt. You began wiping you eyes as you mumbled to yourself. 

"I brought up some food earlier. I didn't know if you were hungry or not so I put it in the microwave so it would stay warm."

"You left...?"

Your voice almost sounded hurt. The guy who was supposed to keep you safe left to go get food, and you were here by yourself?

"No, that was highly decided against. I requested that it be brought up here under these circumstances."

Listening to his words, you reached over and pinched his cheek. You marveled at the feeling of his skin pulling.

"Are you sure you're not a robot?"

He smiled and chuckled gently, reminiscing slightly of how his fellow colleague once did the same.

"Yes, I'm sure. Unless my hard drive from being created was wiped and replaced with some random kid having a 187 IQ."

Moving up your other hand, you held his face in your cold palms. Either side of his face was held by your hands. You took this time to study Spencer's featured. His eyes were warm with care, but the bags beneath them said different. He had worked endless nights apparently. The softness of his nose against his sunken eyes made him seem almost like a cartoon character. the lips were a slight contrast. They were chapped, bitten often. 

You and Spencer sat there for what seemed like forever. He didn't seem to mind having you study him. In fact, he seemed to find it amusing. 

"You know, with all the time we are about to spend together, you have plenty of time to make a study out of me."

"Oh I plan on it, don't you worry."

You pulled your hands away with soft laughter, something you hadn't done since you left the warehouse. Spencer looked a bit sad as your hands left his face and blinked, shook his head, and cleared his throat simultaneously to distract himself from it. 

"Okay, Mr. 187 IQ, how warm do you think that food is in the microwave right now?"

"I put it in there about an hour ago, so you should be able to eat it by now."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N): hey everyone!! I've finally gotten back into the writing spirit. I pushed off writing more of this for a long time because I write on mobile, and it takes a lot longer to churn out chapters. Please forgive if words are misspelled!!! Also, a l o t of onomatopoeia in this chapter.

The warm beige walls of your apartment began to grow familiar to you. A long time had passed. Pulling your fingers away from the wall, you rubbed the tips of them together with a soft sigh. Dust had collected at your fingertips. 

You were on your own now. The team had moved on, and the tired-eyed doctor was nowhere in sight since then. 

In the time that had passed, you never really got to know Spencer. Sure, you would make quiet conversation, but he made sure that his job was his number one priority. 

He gave you the number of a phone he had on the back burner, obviously not going to give you his real one. 

Long texts to check up on you turned into small slips of "on a case, lock doors, dont leave".

The small chime of your phone sounded throught the drab building. At one time, your heart would have leaped from your chest, hoping it was Spencer. Now? You just think of what media influencer had posted now. 

Sitting up, you lazily shuffle your feet over to your device and swipe to put in your passcode. Once in, you check to see what the buzz was about. 

After reading the notification, you swiped it away and then got lost in your thoughts. The last message you sent to Spencer.

\-------------------------------------------

Zippers and fabric sounded together as you began packing your things. A loose strand of hair tickled your forehead as you bent over to slide on your shoes. 

The draft of your message was sitting in the text box, ready to send to Spencer. The amount of times you had spoken it aloud, even rewritten it, was ridiculous. 

You had to get out of that building. Being shoved in there made you feel crazy. He hadn't returned in what felt like so long, even though it was only a matter of days. Smoothing your loose hair back, you picked up your phone and glanced over the message for the hundredth time. 

"Spencer, I can't be stuck in here anymore. I hate being cooped inside here for my "protection." It's been almost a month, and I can't take it anymore. 

I'm going back to see about my apartment. My landlord was sweet lady and I'm sure there is something I could do with that knowledge. 

I will be sending you the address later once confirmed. Don't come looking for me until then."

You felt like you had to apologize. But what was there to apologize for? Being kept in a room for "your safety" even though they nabbed the guy who kept yo---

You blinked away those thoughts and with a simple tap on your phone, you sent away the message as is. You had no time to think about him right now, only to get out of that place. 

The floors creaked as you slid your bag over your shoulder and booked it for the door. It fell open easily as you stalked through the long, empty hallway to reach the front desk. 

The usually nice, older man that usually sat down at the desk was nowhere in sight as your took the pen and scribbled a signature to sign out of the room. 

Turning your head to the left, you saw what looked like a tourist map. You scanned behind the desk quickly and nabbed it before escaping through the front doors. 

\--------------------------------------------

Blink, blink. 

You had been standing and staring for what had felt like forever, but had only actually been a matter of minutes. 

Your phone hadn't chimed again since the last notification, so you set it down and walked back to your wall. 

The rip of a Clorox wipe from the plastic can sounded as you wiped down your walls. After what seemed like 20 minutes, you began to crack open the two tins of paint your purchased over the weekend. 

The walls needed to be redone, and the nice navy colour you picked will match everything nicely. 

You dipped your brush in to mix it and began to slather it all over the wall in a thin coat. Seeing the contrast of the beige and the blue made it feel like you were starting anew, which is exactly what you needed. 

\--------------------------------------------------

Tap.

Tap tap.

Tap.

Taptaptaptap--

"Reid, if that pen makes another noise-- so help me, God ---I'm moving your desk into the interrogation room."

The clicking and tapping of the pen ceased, but it never left Spencer's hands or his mouth. He would chew on anything if you gave it to him. Pencils, pens, straws, you name it. 

He had to have gone through at least half the pencils in his desk, making him move to pens. 

Lost in his own head, he felt his jaw clench down on the hard plastic. Then, the foul taste of blue ink flooded his pallete. If anything else was going to take him out of his head, that would do it. Dropping the broken pen into the trash, he speed-walked to the fountain and held the water that fell into his mouth. 

He then swished it around, making sure that all of the ink would be gone by the time he spit it out. 

"...Reid, you have a little--- uhh."

Not even bothering to look at Emily, he took his walk to the men's restroom and took that time to spit out the translucent blue liquid into the sink. 

He perked his head up to see the faint blue staining his teeth and lips. Spencer sighed and propped his elbows up on the sink, holding his head and letting his fingers glide through the messy, unwashed curls and waves. 

His mind had been on top of anything but his work. Although, one could assume that she was apart of his work at one point. 

Everyone told him about how SHE would get attached, how SHE would be dependent on him. But he wouldn't call himself dependent. 

Spencer would do little things and imagine she's there. Going to the coffee shop before work, he would envision her in the passenger seat beside him. He would see her reaching for a book on a shelf that was just out of reach for her at the library. He would see her stopping to smell the flowers and pay for a small bouquet of them to put in a cheap plastic vase in her house. 

And he would be upset. 

He never would say he likes her. She had taken over his thoughts, but he didn't know why. They had only know each other for the time she got rescued to the time she left. 

Get over it, Spencer. 

She's gone--

"No, no I know she isn't gone. She just went to her apartment."

If you knew that why haven't you gone there yet?

Silence rang all too heavy in the air after his thoughts asked. 

"Hey kid, we're locking up shop. I'll leave the lights on for y---"

Morgan's face poked through the cracked door as he spoke mindlessly. Though, he stopped upon seeing the dismantled doctor. 

"Listen, whatever it is that's bouncing around inside that big brain of yours, I doubt that its nothing you can't fix."

Faking a short smile and a nod to Morgan, Spencer watched as he slipped out of the room and felt the cool air escape his chest. 

You know where she's at, they keep tabs. You know where to go. 

Shaking his head to clear it, he took no time speeding out of the bathroom to find his keys. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

The walls were blue. 

Your hands were blue.

Your f a c e was even stained blue. 

You were sure at some point in time you had a manic episode and just poured the can of paint all over yourself. 

But you knew that you were still lucid, all four hours of painting. 

Some would say watching paint dry is boring and a mindless task, but to you, it felt normal. 

You new the paint was dry by now. You put away the cans, cleared the area of the plastic tarp that stretched across your floor, and checked your phone about a million times. 

Just go shower. Your sticky with paint. 

And yet you just sat, watching the paint sit on your walls. 

Knocknocknock. 

Your brows furrowed. 'Must be the landlady, she's going to flip shit once she sees this'

Given your thoughts, you sat. You didnt get up, you didn't move. You sat. 

Another few raps at your door. 

Nothing. 

The soft squeaking of your door hinges alerted you, but you figured if it was urgent they would have come running. 

The sound of male dress shoes clicking across your dark oaken floor sounded around the seemingly empty apartment. 

It was then when you held your hand up to pause whatever the person behind you was going to do. 

"If you're coming to tell me I'm being kicked out, you could have had Sandra come and do that."

"Sandra was nice, she allowed me into your room actually."

The smooth voice sent chills down your back. It wasn't, it couldn't. 

You turned your head only to spot the same frail man that you thought you would never see again. 

He began to remove his shoes, showing mismatched socks beneath them. He crouched beside you and maneuvered into a sitting position. 

Your eyes stuck to him. He hadn't changed. Curly hair, messy, tired eyes, white collared shirt with the top buttons undone. It was like he stayed stuck in time after you left. 

His eyes stayed forward, noticing the painter's tape around the edges and corners of your room. 

"Isn't there a saying about watching paint dry?"


	6. Chapter 6

Those eight words seemed to reverberate around in your head. You weren't even sure you heard him correctly, but you knew that he was here. In your living room. Sitting beside you. 

He was close enough to where you could feel his body heat. The warm feeling brought you closer to understanding that he was, in fact, sitting next to you. 

Stunned. Yeah, that was the word for it. Stunned. 

"I don't exactly remember who said it, but it's a pretty common phrase."

"You're..."

You felt your hand reach over to feather lightly over his right shoulder. It was solid, he was actually here. 

His head turned to meet where your hand was skimming over his clothed shoulder. His eyes focused suddenly, then looking over to see the confusion clouding your eyes. 

"(Y/N), I know it's been a little while since we've seen each other--"

"You're real."

Spencer felt his brows furrow, then hesitantly taking ahold of your hand. He pressed the pad of his thumb over the top of your hand, feeling the tendons beneath the skin. 

"For a while there, I thought I was crazy-- I, I thought you didn't exist--"

"(Y/N), we stayed in a motel room for...god knows how long."

"That's why I left."

He felt his entire body still, his brain revisiting the last message she sent to him. 

Spencer swallowed shallowly, swiping his thumb over your hand again before spotting the blue patches everywhere. 

"(Y/N), go ahead and go shower. I'll make something to drink, okay?"

"I'll be okay, just... let me clean myself up a little."

You voice hazed, as if you were speaking around something. Your hand phantomly reached for Spencer's face. It cupped his cheek and rubbed your thumb over the soft skin. 

Spencer felt his breath quicken, not expecting such a thing. He had imagined this before, your fingers brushing his face once more. He would have held his hand against yours, pressing it comfortingly into his skin. 

Yet, he didn't. 

"(Y/N), I'll be right here when you get back. Go rinse off in the shower-- your covered in paint."

You hesitantly pulled your hand away, nodding silently before standing and speed-walking to the backrooms where Spencer supposed your room was. 

When your bedroom door shut behind you, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Drifting your hands to the top of your head, you smoothed back your hair in a way of distress. 

You looked at your hands there after. You touched him. You touched his face. He's here, in your apartment, making himself a drink. 

Breathing slowly, you raced to the shower and quickly turned on the water, stepping in very soon after. Too soon actually. 

You gave off a soft yelp of surprise as the stinging cold water shot against your back. You shook it off, only one thing at a time. 

After a very quick 15-minute shower and attempting to make your dampened hair look decent, you dried off and slipped on some comfort clothing of yours. 

Large hoodie, gym shorts, ankle socks. 

You took a breath and walked out into the short hallway. 

"Theres no way you stayed-- you weren't here."

That was the mantra you kept to yourself, before spotting Spencer sitting on your countertop with a mug in his hand. 

"Holy fucking shit---"

You felt the words leave your mouth before you could even think of what to say next. 

Spencer's eyes widened as he set his mug down and hopped off the counter. 

"Sorry, I just-- nevermind."

He rambled on for a little while, but you were still wondering how the fuck he was here. 

You left. Dipped. Disappeared. And yet here he is, in your kitchen, rambling softly and muttering to himself. 

"Spencer."

He stopped mid sentence, casting his gaze over to you.

"Yeah, yeah hey, what do you need?"

"Shut up and hug me--"

You didn't even give him the time to react, or reply for that matter. You shuffled over and wrapped your arms tightly around his midsection, your head resting just below his chin. 

You could feel him hesitating to hug you back, but his arms slowly wrapped around you, his chin resting on your head. 

He smelled of slight sandalwood and some form of mint, like the plant that was sitting on your windowsill. You could feel his breathing stutter a little. Almost as if he was nervous. 

His body had gotten more lean than the last time you saw him. Just by wrapping your arms around him, you don't feel his bone as easily like you did before. 

"I can't believe you're here-- You're here." You put emphasis on the last word. 

He didn't reply, he only began to rub your back in small soothing circles. 

Spencer's mind was going into profiler mode. 

Spaced out, lack of self care, touch starved...

Has she been out of her apartment at all?

"(Y/N), let's sit down on your couch, okay?"

You pulled away and nodded, walking back into your living area. You noticed that the plastic tarp you had layed out was wrapped up and over to the side of your bookshelf. 

"I wrapped it up for you, I hope you don't mind."

You didn't reply, but sat down on the couch anyways. 

You began to space out, but you felt the couch dip amd your hand gain warmth as Spencer sat beside you. 

"How have you been, (Y/N)?"

"Good.."

"....Sandra had said you haven't been leaving your apartment since you got back." 

"I left to get paint--"

"I mean other than that."

Your gaze was still fixed on the ground, spacey. Dissociative. 

"(Y/N), look at me."

Turning your head, you looked past him. Eye contact was not something you had built up to yet. 

"In the eyes, (Y/N). Look me in the eyes." 

Slowly, very very slowly, you followed what he told you and looked him in the eyes. 

A breath swelled in your chest as you saw his soft, almost cartoon like features. The bags had only gotten worse.

"Your eyes, they're so tired..."

"It comes with the job."

"You need to sleep, its awfully late--"

"(Y/N), stop it."

You quieted after he said that. He sighed and gave a worried look. 

"Have you been speaking with anyone lately? Friends, family even?"

No reply. 

"(Y/N)."

You gave in and began to shake your head. You hadn't spoken to anyone or went out other than for essential needs. 

"For how long?"

"Since I came back."

You took in a shaky breath. 

"I don't want to go out there again. In the movies you always hear about people getting kidnapped and they go back to their normal lives, but it's a l o t harder than it looks--"

You were suddenly encased with warmth. Spencer had his arms wrapped around you tightly. 

"Lay down, relax."

Spencer let go and layed down on your couch, arms open. You sat and looked for a little while before giving in. 

He hummed softly in response to your head laying on his chest. 

V e r y touch starved. Very compliant as well. 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Spencer began,

"I left. I left you there in that room when I should have been helping you-- you needed help."

"I still need help, Spence."

He sighed and began to thread his fingers through your hair at the base of your neck. 

You froze. 

The soft fingers you remember suddenly became rough. The threading became pulling.

You sucked in a gulp of air and shot a panicked look around your home. 

Spencer sat in a chair opposite of you. He placed down his book and crouched beside you on the couch. 

"Hey hey, it's alright. Its okay. You're in your apartment, I never left."

"What the fuck? Nonono I was... we were-- right here."

You looked on the floor to see the plastic tarp spread out still. 

"What happened?"

"You fainted. You were standing in the kitchen and had said my name, then your eyes went back and you fell-- had I not been here to catch you it could've been a trip to the ER--"

"Spencer."

"No bumps or bruises or anything, so that's go--"

"Spencer I don't remember falling."

The silence then began to ring thick. 

"....(Y/N), what do you remember happening?"


End file.
